


The Picnic

by eightbitbat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post One Year Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightbitbat/pseuds/eightbitbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where exactly are we going?”</p>
<p>“The Night Vale Municipal Picnic Area and Institute for the Criminally Insane.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Picnic

Carlos pulled up outside of Cecil’s apartment building to pick him up for their third date.  He went up to Cecil’s door, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring him something.  Flowers?  Did Cecil like flowers?  Did they even sell flowers in Night Vale?  They probably did.  They would also probably be flowers that ate people and/or house pets.  Either way, he had no flowers.  He knocked on Cecil’s door and it opened at once.

“Carlos!” Cecil bounced into view.  He always sounded so excited, as if he still couldn’t believe they were doing this.  Sometimes Carlos didn’t believe it either.  He leaned forward and kissed Cecil, something that was rapidly becoming one of his favorite activities. 

“What’s the plan?” 

Cecil grabbed a large basket that was by the door and handed Carlos a garishly paisley blanket.  “I thought we could go for a picnic.  It’s a nice evening, and the blood rains aren’t expected back until morning.”

_Blood rains…?_   Carlos shrugged and tucked the blanket under his arm.  Sometimes—actually, much of the time—it was better to just not ask questions.  Once Cecil locked the door, Carlos took his hand and headed back to his car.

He followed Cecil’s directions and got off Route 800 at exit 22.  “Where exactly are we going?”

“The Night Vale Municipal Picnic Area and Institute for the Criminally Insane.”

“Institute for the Criminally Insane?”

“Yes, though they closed that part down ages ago.  I mean really, who isn’t criminally insane these days?  It does still have a rather lovely self-guided tour, though.”

Carlos opened his mouth to say something about the wisdom of having a picnic at night at a former insane asylum, or having picnic grounds period at a former insane asylum, but he glanced at Cecil and changed his mind.  Cecil was looking at him like someone looked at a slice of warm pecan pie.  Carlos could put up with a lot of strange for that look.

He was glad he had offered to drive.  The last two times Cecil had driven, and at the end of the date there had been awkwardness when Cecil dropped him off.  It’s not that he didn’t want their dates to continue, but the apartment he rented behind the lab was a shabby place.  He didn’t want to celebrate any firsts with Cecil on his ratty secondhand sofa or uncomfortable twin-sized bed.  Carlos had been too shy to ask Cecil to take them back to his place, so he figured driving would lead them there naturally in the end.

That Cecil loved him, he was sure.  Carlos knew he’d been going on about it on the radio show for a year now, not that he thought Cecil really meant it until they’d started actually spending time together.  Or maybe he did.  Sometimes it was hard to tell what was exaggerated for the show.  As for him…he wasn’t sure, yet.  When he was lying there, bleeding out, he’d been afraid and filled with regret.  Cecil was one of those regrets.  At first Cecil’s attention was a little weird, though compared to the rest of the town it was downright normal.  Still, as the months passed, he’d come to appreciate Cecil, and that had grown into a genuine liking, and those feelings were well on the path toward something more when he’d been attacked.  Nearly dying has a way of throwing things into sharp relief.  Was it love?  He didn’t know.  Was it affection and regard?  Certainly.  Was it attraction?  Definitely.  Very definitely.

He pulled up to the foreboding building, only half-listening to Cecil’s stream of chatter about the radio station’s newest intern.  The building was like many in Night Vale, old brick and sprawling grounds covered in failed landscaping that was descending into a chaotic mix of desert scrub and hardy trees.  He had to admit, there was something almost…charming…about the place.  They got out of the car and wandered until Cecil found a tree he deemed worthy to picnic under.  Carlos spread out the horribly paisley blanket and the settled upon it, Cecil unpacking the snacks he brought from the basket. 

Cecil turned out to be a really good cook.  They ate the finger foods he’d prepared (Carlos hoped there were no actual fingers amongst the ingredients, but decided not to ask) and drank sweet red wine out of paper cups.  He leaned against the tree, legs stretched out in front of him, with Cecil’s head pillowed on his chest as they watched the carrion birds squabble over something. 

Cecil poured them both more wine.  “I was wondering if later you might want to go feed the ghouls,” he said.

“Gulls?”

“No, ghouls.”

“What on earth is a ghoul?”

Cecil looked up at him and smiled.  “Really, Carlos?  You’ve lived here over a year and never seen the ghouls?  They’re cute.  They live in the caverns underneath the asylum.”

“Uh…okay, if you want we can feed them.  What do ghouls eat?”

“I picked up a bag of Assorted Snouts and Entrails at the Ralph’s.”

All Carlos could do was laugh and pull Cecil a little tighter to his chest.  He dropped a kiss onto the top of the other man’s head.  A year ago, he never thought he’d find that sentence utterly endearing.  Two years ago, he wouldn’t have believed that sentence could have come out of anything other than a horror movie.  He really was becoming a part of Night Vale, wasn’t he?  Though he had a feeling that it, like Cecil, would never cease to amaze him.

Once they finished the wine, they packed up the basket and blanket and took them back to the car.  Cecil led Carlos down to the ghoul caverns then, fingers intertwined, swinging the bag of snouts and entrails from his free hand.  There were stairs leading down some ways into the earth, which would have made Carlos a little nervous, but they were clean and well-lit.  Once they reached the bottom, the caverns opened before him, the far side lost in a faintly glowing, greenish mist.  There were park benches and garbage cans spaced along the outside rim, with a water fountain at the far end.  They settled on one and Carlos let go of Cecil’s hand, which got him a pout, and wrapped it around his shoulders, which got him a smile and a blush. 

The ghouls were…actually kind of cute.  That’s when Carlos decided he really was becoming a resident.  They were vaguely humanoid, hunched and creeping out from around boulders and stalagmites.  Vaguely humanoid was the most he could give them.  Beyond that, they looked somewhat canine, with pointed ears, and their eyes were red.  They weren’t furry, though, instead looking somewhat rubbery.  A half-dozen of them gathered before their bench in a loose semi-circle; they knew what to expect from people on the benches.

Cecil cooed at them, which made Carlos smile, and carefully tossed the bits of meat so every ghoul got some.  The ghouls’ sharply-clawed hands clamored for the bits Cecil threw, but they were remarkably civil and didn’t fight each other for them.  Cecil offered him the bag and he stuck his free hand in without looking too closely at the contents, tossing a piece to the ghoul nearest him.

He watched Cecil continue to feed the creatures, but gradually got distracted.  Mainly he was distracted by the feel of Cecil’s shoulders beneath his arm, the feel of his hip and thigh against his own.  His eyes kept returning to the soft spot on his neck, below his ear and behind his jaw.  Carlos knew from their last date what that spot felt like under his lips, what sounds Cecil would make if he were to kiss it.  He gave in and leaned down and did, and Cecil went from making cute noises to the ghouls to making soft gasps instead.  He turned to Carlos and their mouths met, and for a second he forgot the cavern, forgot the ghouls, forgot the mostly-empty bag of snouts and entrails on Cecil’s lap.  Everything was reduced to the taste of Cecil, who tasted like summer and desert winds and sweet red wine.  Cecil ran his non-bloody hand up into Carlos’ hair and Carlos closed his eyes and felt his pulse start to race.

That was when one of the ghouls politely cleared its throat.

Carlos looked up with a start.  Maybe he was hearing things?  In Night Vale, that was pretty typical, but no, the ghouls were all looking them…impatiently?  Was the one on the right tapping its foot?

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry guys.  Here!” Cecil said, distributing the last of the meaty bits.

“Cecil,” he said, “did they just politely interrupt us making out to ask for the rest of the meat?”

“Of course they were polite about it!  Even ghouls have manners.”

Carlos examined the ghouls a little closer, even though Cecil had emptied the bag and was now focusing his attention on Carlos’ neck.  He saw…were those tatters of clothing?  “Cecil?”

“Mhmm?”  Cecil’s voice was muffled, as he didn’t remove his lips from Carlos’ neck to reply.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus, though Cecil was hard to ignore, especially his hands.  “Cecil, are the ghouls human?”

Cecil hummed a bit against Carlos’ collarbone, which he then bit lightly before disengaging and looking up at him.  “Well, at one point.  It’s been a while, though.”

“How did they become ghouls?”

Cecil gave a small shudder.  “You really don’t want to know, darling Carlos.  Let’s just say there was an unfortunate accident.”

“Once?”

“Oh no!  Many times.  But I don’t think it’ll happen again.” Cecil smiled at him.  “At least not for a while.  If it does, you know I’ll report on it fully on my show.”

The ghouls had wandered off now.  Carlos was by no means reassured, but not surprised, either.  Instead, he gave another ‘Nigh Vale shrug’ and attacked Cecil’s mouth again, delighting in the feel of his gasp.  This time, there was no audience, and he felt himself melting against Cecil. 

After a few minutes, they broke apart, both panting for air.  Cecil pressed his forehead against Carlos’ and Carlos could feel his breath against his lips.  “Take me home,” he whispered, and Carlos was more than happy to oblige.

The drive back to Cecil’s was full of delicious tension.  Cecil couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and Carlos had to muster all his willpower not to pull the car over and do something about it, but he managed to stay strong and keep driving.  He did warn Cecil that he wasn’t responsible if they got in an accident if he kept putting his hand _there_ , though.

Finally, finally, _finally_ the eighteen minute drive to Cecil’s apartment was over.  Cecil all but dragged him inside, and as soon as the door shut behind them, they were all over each other.  Carlos had never been inside Cecil’s apartment before, but didn’t have the attention span to focus on anything other than the man moaning beneath him on the couch.  (When had they made it to the couch?) 

He did notice that the couch was the exact shade of Cecil’s eyes.  Who buys a couch the same unusual color as their eyes?  Cecil, of course.  Carlos couldn’t help but laugh against Cecil’s mouth.

“What’s so…mm…funny?”  Cecil panted out.

“Mmm…” Carlos pulled back so he could look Cecil in the eyes.  “Nothing’s funny.  Just delightful.  And you, that’s what’s delightful.”  Cecil blushed and grinned and pulled Carlos back down on top of him.  He worked his hands under Cecil’s shirt, and then worked his shirt off all together.  There, before him, was _so much Cecil skin and he just needed to taste it all_.  “Bedroom?”

Cecil looked wrecked beneath him.  “I…I didn’t know we were going to…” Carlos’ hips seemed to have a mind of their own and Cecil sounded very distracted by them.  “Did you fill out the paperwork?”

“There’s paperwork?  Wait, don’t answer that, this is Night Vale…of course there’s paperwork.”  He buried his nose in Cecil’s cheek, really, really not wanting to stop.  He lifted his head and said, “What happens if I don’t?”

Cecil’s eyebrow quirked at the idea of Carlos’ misbehavior and struggled to form sentences around the roll of Carlos’ hips.  “Usually…mm…ritual dismemberment, or sometimes…oh!  Sometimes a twenty-five dollar fine.”

Only in Night Vale.  “How do they decide?”  He dropped his mouth back to Cecil’s neck, unable to resist.

“I-I think I may be able to put in a…ah…good word for you.  Talk them down to a perilous—Caaarlos—dream quest or something along those lines…” 

Carlos stopped for a moment to consider, and in response Cecil hooked a leg around his back.  There wasn’t much to consider, really.  He grinned down at Cecil.  “I think I can handle that.”

It’s definitely love.

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to keep Cecil vague, because all the headcanons are good headcanons.


End file.
